


A Few Quick Ones

by sabinelagrande



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: F/M, M/M, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:14:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some little stories written for the Phoenix Wright Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Coming Out of the Closet

"You'll feel better if you do!" Maya told them.

"I'm quite certain _I_ won't," Miles replied.

"Let me help you!" she pleaded.

"Yeah, Maya," Phoenix said, blushing, "I don't know if you're really ready to go through… that. It's not going to be easy."

"Perhaps it's just better for everyone to leave it as it is," Miles agreed.

"Look, I know you love each other," she countered. "What's the big deal?"

"It's not nearly as simple as that," Miles told her, sounding more than a bit annoyed.

"Maybe it is time," Phoenix said quietly.

"Wright, do you know-"

"No, we've waited long enough." he sighed. "Maya, the key is in desk in the left-hand drawer."

"I'll be right back," she called over her shoulder.

"Well, I wasn't going to kick it down," he told Miles, awkwardly turning to face him in the cramped space.

"Shut up and help me into this coat before she gets back."


	2. Dirty Talk

"Tell me what you want," he breathed into his lover's ear.

"Uh, pal, I hope you know by now," Gumshoe said, uncertainly.

"I want you to tell me," Miles replied, working his fingers in and out of him slowly.

"Did you forget?" Gumshoe turned his head back to look at his partner. "It's okay, pal. It happens to me all the time."

Miles rolled his eyes upwards, as if to invoke a higher power. "I am not asking you because I cannot remember. I am asking you because some people find it exciting to be told."

"Right," Gumshoe said, a look of extreme concentration on his face. "Put it in, pal! I want you to-" he looked uncertain for a moment- "do me in the butt!"

The bed springs creaked loudly as Miles got out of bed, walking towards the door. "What did I say?" Gumshoe asked pitifully, rolling over to look at him.

Miles leaned over and reached into the pile of discarded clothing, rooting around for Gumshoe's tie. Climbing back onto the bed, he took the ends in his hands, surprising the other man by gagging him with it.

Edgeworth sighed. "Much better."


	3. Speculation

"So, how do you think they ended up together?" Maya asked.

Hannah barely looked up from her laptop, typing away. "Phoenix and Mr. Edgeworth?"

Maya rolled her eyes. "No, Edgeworth and Ms. Von Karma. Who do you think?"

"Aren't they related?"

"You don't do sarcasm well, do you?"

Hannah sighed, putting her laptop aside. "I imagine that it started all at once," she started, getting a faraway look in her eyes. "They went out for a drink after work one day, and Phoenix said something that sparked Mr. Edgeworth's interest, and then they-"

"Right there in the bar?"

"Of course not," Hannah said, dismissing the idea out of hand. "They waited until the parking lot."


	4. Hooked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because it's not immediately obvious, the pairing is Shelly De Killer/Celeste Inpax- and be forewarned that it contains erotic asphyxiation.

She met him in a bar. It's not important which one, even though she has it written down; it's more important _that_ she has it written down.

It was his face, she told her diary later, his face that drew her in. Everyone she knows is beautiful, each one physically perfect, and he drew her in with that difference, that horrid line of stitches running down. She wanted to trace her fingers over it, she wrote, read it out like Braille.

Then she burnt the pages.

They kept meeting- same bar, no arrangements, just pretending that their habit of showing up at the same time on the same day wasn't. She admired the efficiency it took for that, the devotion to the careful routine.

On the fifth night, she let him take her home.

He undressed her meticulously, asking politely before zipping down her dress, leaving her stockings on. Then he reached for her- not like so many other men had done, but for her neck, wrapping his slender fingers around her delicate throat. The politeness dissipated as his hands closed, cutting off her oxygen. Her icy calm refused to break, until the panic set in. Her tight control shattering, she clawed at him, eyes overflowing, kicking and flailing with every bit of strength she could manage. He released her, wiping a tear from her cheek, apologizing profusely for how he had misjudged her.

But by then, she was hooked.

That was years ago, and she's past the point where a normal person would have forgotten all about it. The one thing she's still sure of after all these days is that she isn't a normal person.

Someone is knocking at the door downstairs, but she isn't interested. She isn't even really here. She's underneath him, breath gone, animalistic and desperate- come, as amusing coincidence would have it, out of her shell.

She looks up at the noose, the only way she knows to really be who she thinks of as herself. She smiles.


	5. Huey?

Juan pounded Matt mercilessly into the vanity, driving into him over and over. Matt's makeup kept falling off onto the floor from the movement, his compacts shattering on impact. The whole thing was probably doing a number on the wall, too, but neither of them were particularly concerned about that.

Juan grabbed him by the hair, yanking him up to whisper in his ear. "Say my name," he hissed.

"Uh-"

"Say it!"

"Hhhhuuuuuuuueeeeeeyyyyy!" Matt screamed, coming hard.

"Who the fuck is Huey?" Juan asked, after he had finished.

Matt thought about it for a moment, then dialed a number into his wristphone. "Let me call my manager. I bet she knows."


	6. Sugar Shock

"Hey, pal!" Detective Gumshoe said, barreling into the Fey and Co. Law offices. Mia's young assistant looked up, startled. "Is Ms. Fey here?"

"Come on in, Detective," she called from her office, and he bounded in. The assistant shrugged, going back to his brief.

Mia stood behind her desk, surreptitiously adjusting her scarf. "How can I help you?" she asked, quietly hoping the reason for his visit didn't involve murder.

"I came over here to give you something important!" Gumshoe said proudly, sounding a bit like he'd rehearsed the line.

Mia quirked an eyebrow at him. "Does it have to do with a case?"

Gumshoe scratched the back of his head, blushing. "Uh, not exactly, pal."

"Something from the prosecutor's office?"

"Not really."

"What is it?" she asked, biting at her thumb, genuinely curious.

Looking away from her, he pulled his hand from behind his back. Clutched in his fist was possibly the most bedraggled looking bouquet she had ever seen.

"Missile got a hold of it," he said, trying in vain to fluff up a carnation, which only lead to the whole flower falling off the stem. Gumshoe's expression was equally pitiful, and she was a bit afraid that he was going to start crying right there.

Mia stepped out from behind her desk, walking over and taking the flowers from him. She twined her other hand in his hair, lifting up on her toes to kiss him chastely on the lips. "It's perfect," she told him, smiling.

In the other room, the young man fell out of his chair, startled by a yell from the other room. Well, it wasn't so much a yell as a loud war whoop, but it was still enough for him to untangle himself from the chair and limp over to Mia's door. Through the doorway, he saw Mia laughing, her arms around the big detective.

Phoenix shook his head. That was one thing to be said for working with Mia- there was never a dull moment.


	7. Powerplay

Miles Edgeworth sat at his desk, eyes glazing over. He just couldn't stare at this case file any longer- it was cut-and-dried, but he had a sneaking suspicion that Wright was going to win it anyway.

There was a soft tap at the door before it swung open. "I brought you some tea, Mr. Edgeworth," his secretary told him, carrying in a tray.

Truth be told, he had never really taken much notice of her. Hannah was someone he respected and needed, someone he could rely on, but nothing more. There was something about her today, though- he didn't believe he'd ever seen her in a skirt that short. The effect was heightened by her tight top, which gapped across her chest, the buttons practically pulled out of their holes by her straining breasts.

Edgeworth felt his mouth go dry as she leaned over, placing the tea tray in front of him. The motion made her skirt ride up ever so slightly, and the tops of her gartered stockings slipped into view.

"Anything else?" she asked, straightening up.

He swallowed. "That's all for now. Thank you." She smiled at him- did he detect the hint of a leer?- and turned to go.

"Wait," Edgeworth said when she had gotten halfway across the room. "We need to talk." Aping innocence, she walked back over, leaning back against the corner of his desk. "Do you think that your-" he licked his dry lips unconsciously- "attire is entirely appropriate for the workplace, Ms. Fright?"

She adjusted her hair. "I'm sorry, Mr. Edgeworth," she replied. "I guess I've been a bit out of line." As if to punctuate this statement, she uncrossed her legs. As she crossed them again, Edgeworth couldn't help but notice that she wasn't wearing any underwear.

"And what do you think would be an appropriate-" Edgeworth groped for a word that wasn't "punishment"- "censure for your actions?"

Both their eyes snapped to the wooden ruler lying innocuously on his desk. Edgeworth was sure he was blushing furiously, but Hannah seemed completely at ease.

"Over my knee." Did he really just hear himself say that? She complied readily, and he tried hard not to think of how incredibly unethical all of this was. He was definitely already past the line, he thought as he picked up the ruler. He lifted up her skirt exposing her ass, which was framed perfectly by her black garter straps. What difference did it make if he went a little farther?

Without prelude, he brought the ruler down hard against her, a loud slap resounding through the room. Edgeworth waited for her to jump up and hit him in the face, but she only made a satisfied little noise, squirming against him. He tried another stroke, experimentally, and she moaned. That was the end of his tight control; he spanked her wildly, her cheeks coming out in a bright flush. With every stroke, she managed to rub against him, and he was achingly hard.

"Against the desk," he managed to get out, dropping the ruler to the floor. She practically jumped up, bracing herself against it. He fumbled his pants open, dropping them to his ankles along with his boxers. Flipping her skirt up over her back, he lined up and thrust in, his mouth dropping open. She was making lots of little noises of encouragement, pressing back against him. He fucked her with abandon, gripping the edge of the desk for leverage. Edgeworth bit his lip, trying to hold back, but all too soon she was clenching around him. He spent himself, dropping tiredly back into his chair after a few long moments.

Hannah stood up, smoothing her skirt down and tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Will there be anything else, Mr. Edgeworth?" she asked, grinning.

Edgeworth tried to reply, but it only came out as a satisfied sigh.

-

MysticPrincess: did you like it???  
hannahbanana: aetzhhaettttttttttttttttttt  
MysticPrincess: that good, huh?  
hannahbanana: OMG MAYA BEST BIRTHDAY FIC EVER


	8. No Strings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it's (again) not obvious, the pairing is Miles Edgeworth/Lana Skye.

It's raining when he opens the door, and her clothes are soaking wet. It doesn't matter though, because in the space of five minutes she isn't wearing them anymore.

There are rules for this; there have to be, because neither of them can remember what it was like not to live by them (if, in fact, they ever knew). But by now, it's been going on so long that they don't need to question. They don't have to think about it, and that's the only reason it works.

He covers her body with his, bracing himself above her, bending down to bite at her collarbone. Slowly, deliberately, she draws her fingernails down his chest. She rasps across his nipple, and he throws his head back, hissing. He attacks her neck with renewed vigor, his teeth leaving vivid marks on her pale skin, but she keeps on toying with him, bringing him out in long, smooth red welts.

He gives first, grabbing her by the ankles and doubling her over. He watches her eyes as he pushes himself into her; her irises roll back, her lids fluttering gently. He thrusts slowly at first, but she digs her fingernails into hips, urging him on.

All too quickly, he's coming, driving into her one last time. He works his hand between them, rubbing at her clit until she follows him, shuddering and clenching her eyes shut.

Her clothes are still damp, but she pulls them back on anyway. He walks her to the door, but no further, not watching as she walks away.

When he goes to sleep, the sheets smell like her, and he wonders why he notices.


	9. I apologize for nothing

Oldbag got run over by a reindeer  
Walking home from Global Christmas eve  
You can say there's no such thing as Santa  
But as for me and Edgeworth, we believe

She'd been drinkin' too much eggnog  
And Jack begged her not to go  
But she said we were a bunch of whippersnappers, and how dare we try to talk to a lady like that, and she didn't go around telling us our business so we shouldn't try to tell her hers, and how would we like it if she came over there and-   
So she stumbled out the door into the snow

When they found her Christmas mornin'  
At the scene of the attack  
There were hoof prints on her forehead  
And incriminatin' spear wounds in her back

Oldbag got run over by a reindeer  
Walking home from Global Christmas eve  
You can say there's no such thing as Santa  
But as for me and Edgeworth, we believe

Now we're all so proud of Edgeworth  
He's been takin' this so well  
See him in there readin' case files  
Sippin' tea and playin' dolls with cousin Pearl

It's not Christmas without Oldbag  
The courtroom's looking mighty glum  
And we just can't help but wonder  
Should start with whiskey or with rum?

Oldbag got run over by a reindeer  
Walking home from Global Christmas eve  
You can say there's no such thing as Santa  
But as for me and Edgeworth, we believe

We say it's not a celebration  
Just an excuse to get pissed  
Will and Miles just left for the closet  
It's a sight that Oldbag's surely sad she missed

I've warned all my friends and neighbors  
Better pay heed to all the fuss  
They should never give a pop gun  
To a gal who's not as sane as Manfred was

Oldbag got run over by a reindeer  
Walking home from Global Christmas eve  
You can say there's no such thing as Santa  
But as for me and Edgeworth, we believe


	10. Meekins and His Cock

"DO SOMETHING ABOUT HIM," the usually calm Chief Prosecutor screamed at Gumshoe, before turning on her heel and marching away.

Oh no. Was it the Chief of Police again? It was just that he got going on that organ of his, and some days, it was like God himself was pissed-

"Detective Gumshoe!" He snapped out of his reverie, blushing as he noticed Maggey standing at attention in front of his desk.

"What is it?"

"Officer Meekins, sir! He's causing a scene near the evidence lockers!"

Gumshoe put his hand over his face. "What's he doing?"

"He's showing people his cock, sir!" Maggey leaned over, looking behind the desk. "Why are you on the floor, sir?"

He stood up, brushing himself off. "I knew he was a little off, but I didn't think-"

"It's a big one, sir! And red-"

"Thanks, Maggey," he said hurriedly. "I'll- I'll go take care of it."

He made it to the security room in record time, thoroughly convinced that someone was going to blame him if he didn't put a stop to this.

"Is he still in there?" he asked the guard, panting.

Jake scratched at his stubble with the edge of his knife. "Yup," he replied, taking his time. "I reckon he's enjoying himself quite a bit. He's already incensed the womenfolk." He sighed, putting his knife back its sheath. "Reckon we might have to have us a hemp party if it gets any worse."

Gumshoe blinked. "I don't think we're allowed to do that at the station, pal, but, uh, thanks?" He slid his card, and the door to the locker room opened.

"Pal, are you in here?" he asked carefully.

"IN THE BACK, SIR!" the ear-splitting reply came.

"Is there a situation in here, Officer?"

Gumshoe swore he could hear the man salute. "SITUATION NORMAL, SIR! I MAY HAVE STARTLED CHIEF PROSECUTOR SKYE, SIR!"

"About that, pal-"

"I'M HAVING SOME TROUBLE GETTING IT BACK IN, SIR!"

He screwed his eyes shut, not believing what he was about to say. "Do you need, uh, any help?"

"I WOULD BE MOST APPRECIATIVE, DETECTIVE!"

Steeling himself, Gumshoe walked resolutely around the corner, his hand firmly clamped over his eyes. After a few moments, he peeked out from between his fingers.

Gumshoe's shoulders sagged, and he let out a huge sigh of relief. "Pal, I don't care if it is a witness. You can't keep a rooster in your evidence locker."


End file.
